


To The Stars Who Listen

by Wake_The_Dragon



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Astoria Greengrass is a good sister, Curse Breaking, F/F, F/M, Fairy Tale Curses, Fairy Tale Elements, Fluff and Angst, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, Rare Pairing, Redeemed Slytherins
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-24
Updated: 2020-10-24
Packaged: 2021-03-08 18:35:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,689
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27181213
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wake_The_Dragon/pseuds/Wake_The_Dragon
Summary: Healer Hermione Granger’s life is perfectly content, until a new challenge is presented to her: free a former classmate from an inherited curse. But it’s easier said than done thanks to said classmate’s hopeless attitude, interfering friends and family, and love.
Relationships: Astoria Greengrass/Draco Malfoy, Hermione Granger/Daphne Greengrass, Lavender Brown/Ron Weasley, Pansy Parkinson/Harry Potter
Comments: 12
Kudos: 37





	To The Stars Who Listen

**Author's Note:**

> I do not own Harry Potter. All characters belong to J.K. Rowling.

_“Please, tell me the story again! Please!”_

_“Alright, alright.” The second voice laughed before continuing, “Once upon a time, in a magical place called Cheshire, there lived a princess. The princess was beautiful and smart and seemed to have everything she wanted, but she had a secret. Her family had lived under a curse for generations, where there was always one prince or princess who could never leave their lands, no matter how much they wanted to. The princess had tried to find out how to break the curse, traveling far and wide, but when her father died she felt the curse take hold and she had to return to her home, now prison._

_She had lost all hope.”_

_“But there was still hope,” protested the first voice._

_“Don’t get ahead of the story, love,” chuckled the second voice. “But yes, there was still hope. The princess’ younger sister knew of a hero she believed could break the curse. This hero lived in an equally magical place called London, and she was beautiful and smarter than even the princess or her sister, but most importantly she had a kind heart. The princess’ sister knew she could ask the hero for help and that the hero would say yes.”_

* * *

  
Hermione wished that she had gotten her second cup of coffee before being accosted by Astoria Malfoy. Normally, that wasn’t much of a problem -Draco had become her sort of friend in the years since the Battle of Hogwarts but she’d be lying if she didn’t find Astoria usually the easier to get along with -but there was a glint in the other witch’s eye that she wasn’t sure she liked. It was the sort of glint Ginny got right before a big match or Harry and Ron used to get when they were all back in school and about to do something reckless.

Hermione knew it would be considered too rude to immediately get up from the table her co-worker’s wife just took a seat at, but she was weary. Astoria was smiling but that didn’t make Hermione any less suspicious. She brushed a speck of non-existent dirt from her blue healer robes before greeting the other woman: “Hello, Astoria. Are you looking for Draco?”

Astoria tucked a strand of brown hair behind her ear and regarded Hermione with that same pleasant smile. It shouldn’t have made Hermione want to tense up, and yet it did. “Oh no, I’m not here to see Draco. I was hoping to talk to you. I need your help.”

“My help?”

Astoria nodded, and the expression on her face shifted. The smile was gone and she looked tired and worried and just a little bit vulnerable. Astoria was one of the nicer Sacred Twenty-Eight purebloods she’d ever met, but even she had rules about not showing weakness in public. Hermione felt a something clench in the pit of her stomach and she asked worriedly, “Are you alright? Is it Draco? Or is there something wrong with Scorpious?”

Astoria shook her head, and Hermione felt herself relax a smidgen. “It’s my sister, actually.” There was a tremble in her voice and the hands she rested on the table clenched. “Daphne is under a curse.”

Hermione reached out to place a hand on top of Astoria’s. At the same time, she tried to think of what she knew about Daphne Greengrass and realized it wasn’t a lot. They were in the same year at school and shared many of the same classes, but they weren’t friends. Daphne had been friends with Pansy when Pansy was still acting like she was Queen Bitch, but she’d never made fun of Hermione that she remembered anyway. She knew Daphne was still friends with Draco’s group; she’d been at the party Pansy had thrown after eloping with Harry; and she remembered seeing her with them at pubs at Diagon. Except not anymore she realized.

The most she remembered of Daphne was actually from Draco and Astoria’s wedding. Daphne had been Astoria’s maid of honor and had given a speech that had alternated between funny and touching. Astoria cried and she was almost positive Daphne’s eyes had been wet too.

(Afterwards, they had both found themselves at the bar. “Your speech was lovely,” Hermione had said as they waited for their respective drinks.

Daphne had given a slow, but sincere smile. “It’s my little sister’s wedding. She deserved my best.”

The corners of her mouth twitched upwards. “Did you really threaten to hex Draco’s bollocks off if he hurt Astoria?”

Daphne winked at her. “That would be telling,” she said with a soft laugh. Her drink was finally ready and she raised it to Hermione in a sort of mock salute before gliding off somewhere. Hermione, herself, had gotten pulled onto the dance floor by Ron only a few minutes later.)

So to sum things up, she had never interacted much with Daphne but she knew that Astoria clearly cared deeply about her sister. She would have to be as sensitive as possible. “I’m very sorry to hear that. How long has she been cursed?”

Astoria flinched. “It’s only been active within the last year, but we knew she was going to have it pretty much our entire lives. It’s a family curse and it went to her once father died.”

Oh, that could complicate things. Bloodline curses could exist for centuries, sometimes lying dormant for generations until showing up again, and they could be incredibly tricky to break, if they could be broken at all. They were rare, but only because of the amount of malice needed to curse not only a person, but all of their future descendants as well.

Hermione asked, “Do you know how long your family has had this curse?”

“Centuries.”

That was certainly not a good sign either. It meant that whatever this did, it was resilient. Something of her thoughts must have shown on her face, because Astoria closed her eyes for a second and then reopened them with a renewed look of determination. “It’s bad, I know. But I’m not willing to give up yet even if Daph is.”

And the actual patient wasn’t interested in treatment, this was getting more complicated by the second. Hermione bit the inside of her cheek, thinking of a delicate way of saying this, before finally just saying, “Astoria, I know this will be hard to hear, but if Daphne has decided not to pursue treatment, then that should be respected. If she’s still in her right mind-“

“Fuck her right mind,” snapped the normally polite witch. Hermione’s eyebrows shot up to her hairline but the other woman was oblivious to Hermione’s shock. Her warm blue eyes had grown wintery and she continued strongly, “If this were me, Daphne would move heaven and earth to help me. She’d drag me kicking and screaming the entire way if she had to, but she’d fucking do it. But because this is happening to her, she thinks she’s an acceptable loss!”

“Astoria,” she tried to interrupt the other witch, but was cut off instead.

“What if it was Harry?” she asked, intensely blue eyes staring into hers. “If Harry had just woken up one day with a curse that was going to severely impact his entire life; not because he’d done something to get cursed, but because some ancestor who’d lived and died centuries before him did. Would you just let him shrug and say, ‘We always knew this was coming,’ or would you do anything to cure him?”

They both obviously knew the answer to that and damn her for asking it.

Astoria didn’t break eye contact with her. “Daphne is my older sister and she’s my best friend. I can’t just stand by and watch her become a prisoner in our childhood home, or for her life to be cut short. And I will admit that this part is selfish,” her voice broke for a moment before she continued, “but it is likely that Scorpious would inherit it after her death. I wouldn’t be able to stand it if I lost my sister, and then for my son to have to live under the same curse as her.”

Hermione felt a lump in her throat. She thought of her own daughter, Rose, and what she would have done to keep this sort of burden from her as well. “I don’t understand what you think I can do here. I always try my best when it comes to correct spell damage or curses, but this might be something more for a curse breaker to-“

“We’ve tried curse-breakers. We’ve tried potions masters and other healers, even an Unspeakable. We’ve brought in ones from other countries. Even Draco has tried.” She ran a hand through her hair. “We have kept all their notes and research, and you’ll have free reign of our library as well. We have records going all the way back from before the Greengrass family was in England. You wouldn’t have to reinvent the wheel here. Look, maybe it’s as hopeless as Daphne already thinks it is, but you’re Hermione Granger. You finished first in your year, every year. You are a war hero who helped Harry Potter defeat the Dark Lord. You are exactly the person I need, the person my sister needs.”

Astoria swallowed suddenly. “I will pay you and I will pay St. Mungo’s to essentially hire you out to my family. If you do this, I want you focused on it. You can stay at our home if needed, I can talk Daphne into that. Please, Hermione.”

Her heart was aching by this point. “Astoria-“

“I will beg you,” the other witch cut her off again. “I will get on my knees right now in the middle of this cafeteria and beg you. I’m not that proud.”

Hermione blinked at this dramatic turn. Did all pureblood witches and wizards from these aristocratic families just inherit this level of dramatics or were they all taught it? Astoria, apparently misunderstood Hermione’s confusion, and got up to act on that threat; Hermione hurriedly grabbed her by the arm and pulled the other witch back down. “That won’t be necessary, thank you.”

She could practically hear Draco’s snide voice in her head and could only imagine what he’d say if she just let his wife get on her hands and knees in the middle of the hospital cafeteria. _Damn it Granger. My wife should only ever beg me, and only when inside our bedroom._

“So you’ll do it?” asked Astoria.

Hermione’s heart had won the argument against her head so she just sighed and nodded.

Astoria’s entire face practically lit up from happiness and she immediately moved around the table to pull Hermione into a hug. “Thank you, thank you, thank you. I promise you won’t regret this. Now are you doing anything tomorrow night?”

Rose was with Ron and Lavender this weekend, and she hadn’t any plans with friends either. No dates either, but she was more focused on work right now and co-parenting well than dating, though both her mum and Molly Weasley protested that.

“No.”

“Great,” Astoria beamed, as she pulled back from the hug. “You’re coming to dinner at Daphne’s. We’ll convince her then. You can floo over with Draco. Oh and Harry and Pansy are coming too so you should feel more comfortable! I warned Pansy so they’ll know why you’re there as well.” Before Hermione could protest this, Astoria was striding away from the table, a notable spring in her step.

“What have I done?” Hermione asked herself.

* * *

  
That feeling only worsened by the end of her shift the next night. Hermione had thought of and debated various excuses to get out of this dinner, ranging from the plausible (‘I’m sorry, I’m feeling a bit queasy’) to the outlandish (‘I’ve been kidnapped!’). None of which felt right and none of which the people in her life were accepting.

She’d only just walked through the door of her flat the night before before an excitable Pansy had marched out; Harry, carrying their toddler daughter, emerged right after her. “Pansy, we talked about this,” had been the first thing she heard before Pansy was turning to her.

It would have reminded her of the way they’d been at Hogwarts but instead of berating her, Pansy hugged her. “Thank you so much,” she said, and Hermione froze in shock.

“Who are you and what have you done to Pansy?”

Harry snickered and earned a glare from his wife for his trouble. She huffed and turned back to Hermione, arms crossed. “Damn it, Granger. I’m trying to thank you for agreeing to save the life of one of my best friends. Could you at least have the grace to act appropriately in the face of my gratitude?”

Hermione groaned. “I promised to help, but I can’t make any promises about saving her life.” She would do her best, of course, but she couldn’t perform a miracle; if she could find a way to break the curse, she would and she would try very hard.

Pansy waved her off. “This is you, Hermione. When we’re talking about you, Ronald or Harry, a promise to try is almost the same as a done deal.” Harry shared a grimace with Hermione over Pansy’s shoulder; neither were entirely comfortable with that amount of confidence, especially when it came to someone else’s life.

Wanting to change the subject, Hermione asked Pansy, “What exactly does the Greengrass curse do? Astoria didn’t mention much, other than Daphne being a prisoner in her own home.” And even that could have been for several reasons, thanks to the sheer variety of nastiness a curse could carry.

This time it was Pansy and Harry’s turn to share a look, until little Lily grabbed at her dad’s glasses and he had to deal with that. Pansy frowned and said, “I only know whatever Daph’s told me over the years and I think she might have been holding back. Families like ours all teach us to be tight lipped over things like curses.” Shrugging, she continued, “But the prisoner thing is accurate. Daphne can’t leave their family estate. She physically can’t step over the boundary or even apparate away.”

(“No, you can’t grab daddy’s glasses, Lils. He needs them to see,” Harry said, trying to keep his glasses on his face.)

“Oh Godric, that must be so isolating. Astoria said this started a year ago, how’s she doing mentally?” It made her think of Sirius Black and his frustrations with being forced to stay in Grimmauld Place.

Pansy hissed through her teeth. “Daphne likes to put a good face on things, so it can be hard to tell. But we’ve all been visiting her and keeping her company as best we can.” She leaned against Hermione’s island counter and crossed her arms again. “Seeing Scorpius and Lily always puts her in a good mood, but we’re all leaving the kids home tomorrow to discuss things with her. Other than that, their property’s large enough she can still go riding and she does work and has other hobbies. Astoria even forced her to renovate the house to get one of those muggle contraptions of yours to work in her home: television right?”

Harry snorted as he continued to play keep away with their daughter and his glasses. “Pans, we have one. You know very well what they’re called.”

Pansy waved him off airily whereas Hermione had to stop the urge to giggle at the idea of something as muggle as a television being in one of these grand, old pureblood mansions. “I’m surprised Astoria thought of that. Malfoy Manor doesn’t have any electronics.”

“Only because you know Draco would complain endlessly about them clashing with the decor or something. But I’m pretty sure their townhouse does,” said Pansy, thoughtfully. “Daph and Tori are the curious types, they get distracted by new things. Salazar, they even have movie nights now.”

It hadn’t been that long ago that the idea of two pureblood princesses having movie marathons would have been downright unthinkable, but things had been changing since the war. There were still the traditionalists and bigots, there always would be, but people were more open now.

Hermione shook herself when she realized her thoughts were getting off track. She was able to shoo Harry and Pansy off when she told them she just wanted to have dinner and go to bed; it still would have been harder to get Pansy to leave if Lily hadn’t started fussing at the moment. Still Pansy had looked Hermione in the eye before going back through the floo and declared, “You’ll save her.” Hermione wasn’t sure if it had been a statement or an order.

“No pressure,” Harry had joked, before following his wife back through the fireplace. She’d been glad to see the back of them and had then looked through her books on curses; Astoria had promised her more than a few resources, but going over the basics wouldn’t hurt anything. She flipped through the books over dinner and then called Ron’s mobile to talk to Rose before her daughter went to bed. It was only later when she was lying in bed that the sheer difficulty of this undertaking hit her.

So much so that the next day, she really wanted to find a way to back out of dinner to get more of a head start on research. Oh and to avoid the oncoming explosion when Daphne realized that her sister and friends had ambushed her with an intervention. That ended up being a pipe dream as soon as she ran into Draco at St. Mungo’s. “Granger, we’re going to leave from here. Please tell me you brought something appropriate to change into for dinner.”

Hermione could feel a headache coming on. “Draco, I was thinking. I don’t really know Daphne so maybe it’d be more appropriate for me to not come to dinner. You shouldn’t need me to convince her anyway-“

“Hermione,” he cut her off. “If you don’t show up with me, my wife and Pansy will just turn up at your flat to get you. Now Potter might try and put up a token resistance with Pansy, because Potter is a fool. But Astoria is sexy when she believes she’s on some sort of mission so I’ll just happily sit back and watch it happen. Either way you are getting dragged into this, but one way is going to be a lot easier for all of us.”

“Shite,” she muttered.

Draco nodded knowingly. “I knew you’d see it the same way. So change of plans; we’ll stop at your flat first, you can change into something for dinner and we’ll leave for Greengrass Estate from there. See you after work,” he concluded with a smirk.

Why was nothing ever easy?

* * *

  
“Granger, I can walk across your living room in three steps. I know you can afford a bigger place than this. What are you trying to prove here?”

Hermione grit her teeth as she changed out of her healer robes and into an outfit that Draco had deemed acceptable for attending an intervention. Well, it was actually the third outfit as Hermione and he had bickered over some of his other choices - ‘Merlin, Draco, this is an intervention not a business meeting’ - but by the time she was dressed she wanted him out of her flat.

She came out to find him nosing through her magazines and she practically shoved him at the fireplace. He went through the floo network first and then she followed him through and exited into a large, sitting room. She was just brushing off some soot when she heard a woman’s voice ask, “You invited Hermione Granger over? That’s unexpected.”

Draco snorted. “Not really. Potter’s here after all, and they’re practically joined at the hip. We’re just missing Weasley. You know thinking about it like that, Pansy what’s it like to be married to all three of them?”

“Screw you, Draco.”

She looked up to see that she had been the last to arrive; Draco was standing next to Astoria, an arm draped around her waist, and Harry and Pansy were sharing a couch. Hermione’s gaze quickly found the last person in the room and she blinked.

Daphne Greengrass didn’t look like the laughing woman Hermione had briefly chatted with at Astoria’s wedding. She was paler and her body language was closed off. Hermione’s immediate thought was that she looked sad, but the word didn't quite fit. Blue eyes, similar in shade to Astoria’s, studied her and Hermione realized why sad didn’t quite cut it as a description: there was just a look of complete resignation in them.

“Hello, everyone. It’s nice to meet you again, Daphne.”

If Hermione hadn’t already agreed to help, she would have now that she’d seen her, and she wondered if that was why Astoria insisted on her coming. Insurance against Hermione changing her mind.

Daphne stood up and held out a hand for Hermione to shake, as she did so Hermione noticed what looked like a tattoo of a flower on her wrist. It was very lifelike, though the amount of thorns extending from it might not have been; the vines looked like they were trying to snake up her arm. The other witch noticed Hermione staring at it and hurriedly broke away. Her arm twitched, almost as if she wanted to pull it behind her back, but stopped at the last second.

“Would you like a drink?” she asked instead. “Or would that get in the way of whatever my sister asked you here to do?”

There was silence as Daphne looked between Hermione and the rest of the group. “I’m not stupid. We fight,” her gaze moved from Astoria to Pansy, “and the next night you’re inviting Hermione Granger to dinner? Did you believe I was just going to think it was a coincidence?”

Less than five minutes and the ‘plan’ was already going off the rails. That had to be a new record.

**Author's Note:**

> I’m usually a Dramione writer, but I wanted to try my hand at writing a rare pair. Thanks to In_Dream’s excellent fic Out of Ashes for putting this pairing on my radar.


End file.
